


Useless in Sable

by Team_Two_Cats



Series: Useless (Suikoden V) [5]
Category: Suikoden, Suikoden V
Genre: Angst, Doppelcest, Doppelganger, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 11:14:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25349830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Team_Two_Cats/pseuds/Team_Two_Cats
Summary: Following his mostly-victory in Lelcar, Frey is off to Sable to try and build friendships...and clear his good name. Because a bandit prince had been making a name for himself, and it might just ruin everything Frey's built to far.
Relationships: Freyjadour Falenas/Roy, Freyjadour Falenas/Zerase
Series: Useless (Suikoden V) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1401328
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

“This just… _in_ ,” Taylor says, finally managing to get his lubed cock inside Frey.

The castle is noisy, and the privacy of one of the restaurant’s screen’s hastily pulled into a corner of the strange underground promenade isn’t exactly flawless. But Frey can’t help but chuckle even as he moans at the feeling of being full.

“Petulant Prince Pounded! Punished by Pernicious Proprietor of Provincial Press.” His laughs are cut short as Taylor pushes him harder against the wall.

“That’s actually not bad,” the reporter says between grunts. “Though I suppose if I reported that…I’d be implicating myself as well.”

“Sounds fair…and balanced to me,” Frey says. He drops a hand to his cock and begins pumping, feeling the quick desperation of Taylor’s thrusts. This won’t last much l—

_He wobbles toward the edge of the ship, is pulled back by the unyielding hands of his father._

_“Careful of the edge,” Ferid says, not unkindly._

_Frey struggles. “I want to see the dolphins,” he cries, but Ferid doesn’t let him go. Instead, he’s pulled up into Ferid’s arms, and Frey quiets, enjoys the feeling, hasn’t be carried like this in a while, what with how big he’s getting._

_The Feitas sparkles in the sun. It’s alive, reflecting the sun in a dazzling display. Sleek shapes break the surface, splash back down. Dolphins. Frey’s heart reaches for them, for their freedom, their grace, their beauty._

_There’s a fear in the pit of his stomach, one’s that been growing ever since his parents told him he’d be getting a little sibling. There’s a feeling of finality about it. Already his mother is absent when before she would have been here with him. Now it’s only Ferid._

_“What’s it gonna be like?” Frey asks. “Having a sister?”_

_Ferid chuckles, but it doesn’t sound happy. Just a noise he makes his with mouth._

_“Don’t you worry about it,” he says. “Whatever happens, you have to remember that your mother and me love you. You’re our special little guy.”_

_Frey knows enough to know what that tucked into that is a different kind of reminder, of what they say about all guys, not just the little ones. That they’re indecisive, untrustworthy, and weak. He hopes he gets a little brother._

_Then another dolphin leaps through the water into the air, and Frey forgets for a moment his worries and fears._

Another light.

_There is fighting. And fire. And the sound of his parents screaming._

_Taylor waits, watches from the alleyway, watches as his home burns. Soldier run about. Godwin. They’re not there to put out the fire. They are the ones who set them._

_If he hadn’t snuck out, he would be in there now. Dying. With his parents. Who he never told about the real him. The him who only lives in the underground clubs, the moments of passion with strangers._

_And now he would never tell him about that him. The him that dances. That smiles. That joys. That truth is up in flames. And he promises himself that will be the last truth that dies too soon. Already a plan is forming. He’ll tell people about this. As many people as will hear. He’ll write it down, spread it. This won’t stand. This…_

_The fire burns, and he takes the moment to feel the heat of it. To know it. He’ll write his story. But right now he listens for the screams, which have stopped. And he cries._

The tingling of the rune recedes. It’s faster now, leaving him less time he needs to recover. It’s still strange. Still new. But he’s starting to get used to it. Beginning to realize that it’s part of what holds everyone together. Something in the rune, sharing what it feels like to be someone else. Building a net of empathy and trust, or at least something like it.

He sags against the wall, and Taylor pulls out of him, is quick in cleaning himself off. Frey wants to say something to him. They look at each other, and Frey can see Taylor struggling with the same thing, the reporter suddenly at a loss for words. Before either of them can speak, though, they are interrupted. Frey only has a moments warning—the sharp click of feels on the stone outside—and can only pull his pants back over his soiled ass before Lyon rounds the corner, face serious. Frey squirms a bit at the mess Taylor has made of his ass, but the man merely smiles smugly as Lyon delivers her news.

“We’ve got a problem,” she says, and those are like Frey’s least favorite words. Because they conceal and reveal so much. Because too often what happens next Is only a series of terrible events.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Sable to investigate the impersonator causing trouble for his cause, Frey finds himself opening up to Lyon about his fears and questions about the Dawn Rune. The visions he's been experiencing. The way it ties him to the people who follow him. Little does he know there's another person listening in the shadows.

“And this is the courtyard,” Solis says.

Frey purses his lips, nods. “Fascinating,” he says, but what he really wants is to end this ridiculous tour. He doesn’t care about the villa, doesn’t care even about the city. Sable seems nice and all, but it’s not like he can really explore it, not even with Boz and Dinn vouching for him.

“And this is the storeroom,” Solis says.

Dinn follows him, hands clasped in front, eyes rapt. Frey’s shoulder sag and he follows, dragging his feet. Beside him, Lyon gives him a scolding look. Behind him, he hears Sialeeds and Alhazred talking about…something boring. The archivist and adventurer had insisted on coming to check out rumors of some sort of book in Sable. Not that Frey cares. Not when Taylor is too busy with the paper. And Richard has been out with the Lindwurm mercenaries on drills for weeks. And Lorelai was busy on research with Zweig. And. And.

He looks to his other side, where the last member of their party walks. Zerase. She catches him looking at her eyes narrow. Quickly he looks down at the floor.

“And this—oh, hello Salisha.” Solis stops short as A young woman and two guards stumble from behind a stack of crates. Frey perks up at the disheveled state of their clothes.

“Hello father,” she says brightly, eyes darting back to the guards, both women at first guess, who try and straighten in attention.

“Salisha here is my pride and joy,” he says. “She’s engaged to Dinn, don’t you know.”

Dinn barely seems to register the statement, eyes still locked on Solis. Salisha rolls her eyes but manages a small smile.

“Yes, the light of my heart,” she says in a flat monotone.

Frey tries to stop himself from laughing, turns it into a cough. Solis doesn’t seem to notice, just smiles gently.

“And there’s a fruit tree out back I want to show you.”

Frey wants to stop and see if Salisha needs any…assistance, but doesn’t know the situation well enough. Instead, he follows dutifully. By the time they’ve eaten and mostly retired for the night, Frey wants to beat his head against a wall. He sits in an admittedly comfortable chair in what must the guest lounge or something like that. Alhazred is already in bed, as is Sialeeds, who Frey saw pull Boz in with her. Lucky. Dinn is…probably off still pining after Solis.

Lyon leans against the wall nearby, not exactly relaxed but as much as can be for her. She’s not actively scanning for trouble. Just…ready.

“You don’t think I could just go out to a b—”

“No,” Lyon says. “No bars. No clubs. No baths. Not even for a little while. Not even if you wear a hood.”

Frey scowls and crosses his arms, pushes himself deeper into the chair.

“All of this because there’s someone out there pretending to be me,” he says. “Probably getting fucked every night and twice every morning.”

“Prince, you’re hardly in a position to criticize someone for tha—”

“It’s basically theft! He’s _stealing_ from me, right now. I’m bored and sexless, and all because this doppelganger has stolen what’s rightfully mine.”

Lyon rolls her eyes.

“You’ll live. The resistance might not if he manages to damage your reputation too much.”

Frey sulks. He knows he should care more. When he closes his eyes he can still see Lelcar burning, can still see the intensity in Sialeed’s face as she thought she saw him for who he is. Spoiled. Useless. There’s a pale reflection of that in how Lyon is looking at him.

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” he asks.

It’s a question he’s thought about a hundred different ways. A thousand different times. And he can tell by the way Lyon rocks back on her heels that it’s not a question she expected from him. And that should hurt, maybe, but it doesn’t. They both know him too well.

“I think right and wrong are often more complicated than we know. You… You’re trying to do the right thing. And while you might…get distracted sometimes, you have been everything that the resistance has needed from you. The Dawn Rune hasn’t made you into a different person, Prince. But it might bring out the best parts of you, and put them to use doing something good.”

“But the death, the destruction…”

“Lordlake is healing because of you. The truth behind the Barrows and the Dawn Rune has been exposed. Things could have gone much worse in Lelcar.”

“But I didn’t _do much_ with any of that. I reacted. I did what I was told.”

“You’ve done more than you know. The Godwins…even Lucretia, they approach this all like it’s a game. A complex game, and I don’t think they lose sight of the casualties, but they are playing for the end. You… Prince, you do _care_ about what happens to the people. In the middle of the game that they’re playing, you’re still treating people like, well, people. People you’d like to fuck, maybe, but that’s who you are. You’re too horny to be a monster.”

Frey can’t help but laugh. He wants to believe her. Because he does care. But… He looks at his hand, at the rune there.

“What if the Dawn Rune is changing me?”

“Changing you? How?” Lyon looks like she wants to walk over to him, examine him for wounds. She glances at the Dawn Rune, and in her eyes Frey can see her weighing it for threats.

“I’ve…been seeing things. Flashes of my life and…the lives of the people I’ve…been intimate with. Not every time but often enough. I don’t know what it means.”

Lyon purses her lips. “Does it feel bad? Like it’s influencing you?”

Frey shrugs. “Not exactly. It’s more like…more like it shows me things that I can’t just unsee. Things I’ve never thought about. Lives…a lot different than the one I’ve lived.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing, Prince.”

Frey blows a raspberry. No, it doesn’t. But…

“Most of the visions, they’re not happy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Or, it’s not… I just, I don’t know what to do with it. There’s so much pain out there.”

And in him, he wants to say.

“I don’t know what to do about it.”

Lyon smiles, and for once it seems almost approving.

“You’ll figure it out. The Dawn Rune must have chosen you for a reason. Whatever it is, I’m sure it will become clear in time.”

Frey deflates but nods. It feels…good to hear that Lyon has such faith in him. A few weeks ago, a month, and that might not have been the case. He doesn’t think the rune is influencing him, exactly. It’s the people. The lives he’s touching and that are touching him. And he doesn’t want it to stop.

“I’m going to get to bed, okay?” Lyon says. “Try not to stay up too late.”

Frey shrugs. “Not like there’s much to stay up _for_.”

He’ll just see if he can sneak some of Solis’ good booze and then call it a night. No point trying to see if the daughter is busy. Or any of the guards. He sighs. Guess he’ll just have to go without—

“Is it true?” a voice asks from directly in back of his chair, and Frey nearly jumps out of it (and his skin). He bites back a shout after Lyon, calling her back to save him, as he realizes who spoke.

“Zerase? Sun blast it you scared me!”

She walks out from behind the chair and stands in front of him. “Is it true? You are getting visions from the Dawn Rune?”

“You were listening this entire time?”

“Irrelevant. If you ware getting visions, it might show a deeper attachment to the rune than anticipated. How long have they been going on? When did they start? What triggers them?”

Frey stares. Opens his mouth. Closes it. Blushes.

“Well, it’s been happening since I was in the ruins near Ceras Lake. Since then, it’s been getting stronger. At first, it only happened in the castle. But I’ve experienced it elsewhere, as well. Maybe a dozen times.”

“I need to verify this.”

Frey’s eyes widen. “I mean, it only happens when—”

Zerase leans forward, and Frey can’t help but see the way her robes shift, bare skin pale and striking against the black fabric.

“I understand what it entails.”

It’s not a seductive smile. Not much of a smile at all. But Frey’s cock still twitches eagerly. This was not where he thought the night would go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Sable will definitely be the longest part of this overall story to date. Apologies that Roy hasn't shown up yet. He's definitely coming. First, though, Frey and Zerase and finding out a bit about what the Dawn Rune's doing... 
> 
> Also I just like this dynamic for Frey and Lyon. I never really liked the romance angle the game pushed (pretty much the only game that had more of a traditional romance, which is probably because otherwise it's way too gay for mainstream rpgs). But they do care about each other, and I hope to capture that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zerase and Frey explore the potential of the Dawn Rune...and each other's bodies.

The room is dark and Zerase makes no move to light a lantern. Frey’s heart is pounding in his chest and his mouth is dry. He swallows, following in the wake of Zerase’s robes, wondering what the hell he’s thinking.

It’s not that he’s not attractive. From what he can see of it, her body is pale, angular, lupine in a way that he definitely reacts to. And it’s not that she’s not willing. With a flourish she pulls away her robes, stands in front of him in a dress that might make Jeane think twice, like she’s wearing a single black ribbon that wraps over each breast and around into a skin-tight bottom.

It's that he can’t tell if she’s going to fuck him or kill him, or if it’s just a matter of order for her. She steps free from the bunched robe at her feet and walks over to him.

“Uh, are you sure about—”

“I’m sure,” she says in the direct way she has, like she’s vaguely scolding him. His cock twitches, and he silently curses it. “My interest in the Dawn Rune is…intense. If it’s exhibiting strange behavior, I need to investigate, to ensure you’re not doing something wrong with it.”

“Wrong?” Frey demands. “What do you mean, wrong? I’m not _choosing_ to do it at all. It’s just happening. So how could it be wrong?”

“People often find a way,” she says, stopping directly in front of him. “But it’s also possible that you’re bond with the rune is simply…unexpected. It’s been a long time since it’s chosen a host. That it chose you is…interesting. I’m curious to know why.”

She reaches out and runs her hand across his chest, fingers search the fastenings to his chest armor. There is nothing warm in her expression, and her fingers, where they brush his skin, are cold. He shivers, and her expression…it doesn’t soften, really, but she tilts her head, undoes another fastening of his armor, which starts to slide off him. She catches it, pulls it away, revealing his bare chest.

“I suppose I should make sure you’re okay with this,” she says, but even as she speaks she’s dropping the armor, reaching for the front of his skirt.

Frey shivers again. Hands frozen at his side. She undoes the skirt and it falls away, leaving just his shorts, his leggings, his scarf, his sleeves, his bracers. She slides a palm over his chest, lightly grazing a nipple, and he can’t help but gasp.

“I should be making sure _you’re_ okay with this,” Frey says, voice shaking. “You don’t catch me as the type who’s into sex. Or men.”

She moves to his bracers, tugs them off his arms.

“I have no patience for people who are loudly wrong,” she says. “It just so happens a lot of men fall into that category. Sex, however…has its uses. When it’s not a distraction.”

She catches the waist of his shorts with a finger, pulls down. It slides easily over the fabric of his leggings, even over the obvious bulge of his cock.

“Do you want this?” she asks.

Put directly, he wonders when he’d ever say no. Lyon might joke, but the truth is yes, he wants this. Almost always. Even Zerase’s cold regard, the chill of her fingers…he loves that she’s looking at him. Touching him. It anchors him in a way that nothing else can. Maybe that’s why the Dawn Rune chose him. Because under all his flirting and his mess, he’s desperate to be chosen. To be wanted.

“Yes,” he says. “However you need it.”

Her eyes widen fractionally, then she nods. There’s still no smile on her face, no real heat in her eyes. But something changes in the air, like Frey has opened a window to let the night in. He realizes her rune is glowing, and on the ceiling a brilliant starscape swirls into motion. And as he looks up, mouth open in awe of it, she’s suddenly behind him. He grunts as she pulls on his scarf, using it to bind his hands behind his back.

“H—”

His protests are cut off as she wraps his braid around his face and shoves it into his mouth. He’s flung onto the bed, flails until he’s on his back, looking at Zerase approach. His eyes shoot wide as with a flick she produces a small blade. From where?! Frey has no time to ponder as she kneels on the bed between his spread legs and puts a hand on his thigh. He goes still, eyes locked on the shine of the blade in the starlight.

He tells himself he can end this at any time, that he can still communicate, that she’s stop if she saw he didn’t want it. But he wants to know what she’s doing, thrills in the way she has complete control. He shudders as the blade descends, as she…cuts away at the fabric of his leggings. A few quick swipes and the cool air of the room washes over his cock, with strains now against nothing, pulsing. With another flick the knife disappears and Zerase looks him over appraisingly.

“Another time we might try other roles,” she says, “but this is easiest for me. I can already feel something from the Dawn Rune.”

Frey can, too. The rune is pulsing, his whole body tingling with energy. It’s more intense than he anticipated.

She takes hold of his cock and he bucks against her touch, the liquid cold of it spiking up his stomach and into his chest. As she strokes him, though, he cold… It doesn’t disappear, but he can stand it, and it radiates something that’s not heat but is definitely pleasant. All the while Zerase looks at him, seeking his eyes. He can’t meet them for long, squirming under the pressure of her hand, whimpering into his braid.

“This won’t take long, then,” she says, and stops, both hands moving up and behind her neck. Frey wants to protest until the hands come away and the ribbon around her falls away, unraveling as it reaches her waist. She pulls it away and is fully naked in front of him, kneeling on the bed, and Frey’s cock pulses so hard it stands straight up for a moment before falling back down.

One hand on the base of his cock, she aims him up and takes him into her mouth. Her other hand slides down her own body, lost from sight but he can see by the way she moves that she’s seeing to herself. Again, any protest that he wants to taste, to feel her, to be the one to get her off, is lost in his own pleasure, and he relinquishes himself to her, to the moment, to the power running between them.

Her hand moves from the base of his cock, shifts lower, spreading him, reaching for his opening. He doesn’t try to hold back. The tingling of the rune explodes through his body, and he can only make a strangled noise in warning as—

Zerase pulls her mouth away and moves her hand back to stroke him, the other planted between her legs, her own body shuddering as Frey comes hard into the air, spurting up his own body, hitting as far up as his nipple as the light engulfs them.

_Arshtat stands on the balcony, basking in the bright sunlight._

_Come here, Freyjadour._

_Frey hesitates, glances back toward the door. On the other side, Lyon is waiting. She’d be with him, but Arshtat wouldn’t allow it. He swallows, walks forward._

_“I hear that you were seen in the city,” she says. “At a…club.”_

_Which is being polite. The place was basically a brothel, and he’d made a few of the “servers” mad as hell pouching their customers. But who could argue with the prince of Falena?_

_“Yes, mother.”_

_She turns, and on her head the Sun Rune glares. New, that. There are whispers of what’s happened, but no one is willing to talk to him about it. But there’s an edge to when they talk about Arshtat now._

_“You are a bit young for—”_

_“I’m old enough,” he says, standing straight. He’s sixteen, of age enough that even Lyon has given up on trying to get him to stay out of trouble entirely. He’s heard the stories of Ferid, after all, and his wild youth. From Sialeeds he’s even heard a bit about Arshtat when she was young, long before she was queen._

_There’s something in her eyes. A sadness? Really?_

_“You’re more my son than you should be,” she says._

_There’s a part of himself he refuses to show that feels the warmth from that, that thrills in the moment of recognition. A part of him that feels like a flower grown in a shadow getting its first touch of sunlight. He crosses his arms._

_“I am who I am,” he says._

_“That you are.” She turns back to the sky._

_They are silent for a while, Frey trying his best not to twitch, to fidget._

_“Try not to embarrass us too much,” she says, and it’s like a blade in his gut. It’s also, without question, a dismissal._

_Tears slip from his eyes, and he turns quickly, nearly runs out the door._

And more light.

_They stand on the top of a great tower. Zerase leans over the edge of the balcony, laughs at the way the grounds seems to slip away forever. She laughs, turns back to Wendy and Leknaat._

_“This place is perfect,” she says. “We’ll be able to truly hone our skills here.”_

_She reaches for Wendy’s hand but doesn’t catch it as Wendy dances away._

_“Not quite perfect,” she says. She’s been acting strange for a while now, and Zerase doesn’t like the hunger in her eyes. The hunger that normally would mean a vigorous night together, but more and more often has meant a cold bed, a lonely sky._

_“What does it lack?” Zerase asks._

_Leknaat is silent. It’s like she knows something she’s not saying, but Zerase knows better than to ask. If it’s the future she sees, then Zerase doesn’t want to know. That way there is only grief._

_“More True Runes,” Wendy says. “How are we supposed to study with only one broken rune and one…lesser rune?”_

_Zerase flinches, looks at the Star Rune, tries not to feel the hurt at it being called lesser._

_“There are True Runes nearby,” Leknaat says. “It won’t be an issue.” But there is no reassurance in her voice._

_Wendy sniffs. “What we need is time in the field. Getting our hands dirty. Making sure that what happened to our people doesn’t continue happening. Harmonia needs to be stopped. To do that, we need to be strong. Invincible.”_

_“We’ve only just arrived,” Zerase says. After years running. Finally they’ve come someplace where they can be safe. Have peace._

_Wendy tosses her head and walks toward the stairs. “We can’t stop,” she says. “If we stop, we die.”_

_Zerase frowns as Wendy disappears down the stairs._

_“I thought that was sharks,” she mutters._

The light fades, and Frey finds himself back in his body, back in the room with Zerase. The starscape above has been touched with color. The dawn.

Zerase is still standing between his legs, hand still encircling his cock, which has deflated some but perks again as he becomes once more of her touch. It twitches, and she gives a start, looks down at it, then up to Frey’s face.

“That was interesting,” she says. If he didn’t know better, he’d say her eyes look wet.

“Interesting enough to continue?” he asks.

It’s not quite a smile, even still. But it’s as close as he’s seen yet. She nods, and they back to their studies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know I never expected to write this pairing, but I gotta admit it's pretty hot. And I love speculating where Zerase might fit into the larger setting, and what her relationship to Leknaat is. I know, I know, still no Roy. Probably he'll be showing up next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Climbing Ranro Mountain in search of the bandit "prince," Frey is confronted by a mirror of himself, and things get...rocky.

The Ranro Mountain is officially awful. Nothing but switchbacks and vertical climbs, a maze that the fucking bandits must think is the perfect cover. How they avoid getting eaten by monsters Frey really doesn’t know. He dodges as Alhazred rushes forward, incanting wildly, magical energy arcing, striking. The salamander drops. Frey sighs.

“I don’t suppose these bandits could just come out and get this over with?” he asks.

“These bandits are despicable criminals,” Dinn spits. “We shall have to root them out like the rats th—”

“Sorry to interrupt,” comes a voice from above them. “But you know that by passing through you’re subject to the Prince’s toll, right?”

Every looks. Arrayed above them on a higher ledge of cliff stand ten bandits. And at their head…

“Wow, he really does look like me,” Frey mutters. They ever got the clothes right. How the fuck did they manage that? Josephine will be furious. Her designs are supposed to be one of a kind.

DoppelFrey stands, hands on hips, wicked grin splitting his mouth. The hair, the clothes, almost everything is spot on. And damn he looks good. Except…there’s something about the way he carries himself. An aggression that Frey can see even at a distance.

“We will not pay the Prince’s toll!” Dinn shouts.

Frey sighs, separates himself from the others, let’s the man above see his own clothes, that same face reflecting back at him.

“I mean, shouldn’t _you_ be paying _me_? If not a toll, then something for stealing my identity?”

The man’s eyes narrow. And Frey can see that they’re a different color than his own.

“So you’re him, huh?” DoppelFrey asks. “Didn’t think a spoiled brat like you would haul ass all the way up a mountain. I’d say I’m impressed, but I’m not sure you _can_ impress me.”

“Like I care what some whiny little shit thinks of me,” Frey says.

“Big words for a man who hasn’t had to worry about a thing a day in his life. You expecting us to bow knee just because you showed up?”

“Hey, if you want to get on your knees, I’m sure we could have a lot more fun than whatever you have planned.”

DoppelFrey double-takes, and Frey can see that his face is red. Frey smiles. It’s almost too easy.

“Somehow I expected the great prince Freyjadour Falenas to have a bigger stick up his ass.”

“I’d rather have your cock up my ass, truthfully. Sticks can leave splinters.”

He really should thank Lyon for the sexual hygiene she’s bombarded him with over the years.

DoppelFrey is crimson enough that it looks like he’s been out in the blazing sun for an afternoon. Frey can feel something from the Dawn Rune, a pull that he’s felt before. Is it trying to tell him something? Or is it reacting to his desire, the relish he takes from engaging with this doppelganger. The desire he can’t deny he feels when seeing his double there, so obviously angry at him. But hot.

“Maybe this will shut you up!” DoppelFrey yells, motioning to the other bandits, two of whom activate Earth Runes.

“Oh shit,” Frey says. The ground shakes, and boulders break free from the side of the mountain, start careening toward them.

Lyon is already to him, sweeping his legs, covering him with her body. Beyond her, he can hear Alhazred and Zerase both speaking, and there’s a roar as the boulders descend, as the air around them seems to draw its breath and then scream in a clap and thunder of noise. Someone screams. For a moment, everything is dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, the first appearance of Roy. Obviously changing the script a bit, because I always thought it was a little weird to just stumble on Roy in the caves. Here he's being a bit more proactive but no less grumpy. But Frey's having none of it, and as always his mind is in the gutter--I mean is on the prize. Doesn't mean he has the high ground, though.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frey and company making it to the top of Ranro Mountain (minus a few members). But what's waiting for them there isn't what Frey anticipates, and will challenge him in some unexpected ways.

Frey is pissed. Dinn had to take Alhazred back to Sable on a makeshift stretcher. Zerase and Sialeeds took care of most of the rocks with well-timed blasts from their runes, while Alhazred’s attempt to reverse the rock slide had just brought most of the punishment on himself. By the time the dust cleared, the bandits had cleared off, probably thinking their work done.

And the fucking monsters. Just. Would. Not. Quit.

Frey dodges a gout of flame, doing his best to ignore Lyon’s instructions to fall back. Zerase closes with him from the opposite direction. They stop, shoulder to shoulder, arms outstretched. The light of their runes mingle and a blast splits the air—and the giant bird accosting them—in half.

Frey smiles, looks over at Zerase, who as always is scowling, but Frey chooses to interpret it as a triumphant scowl, maybe even a sexy scowl.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” Zerase says, and Frey blushes, looks away, and definitely doesn’t stop thinking about it.

They continue up the mountain, until at last it evens out.

“I thought we’d run into some more bandits by now,” Lyon says, eyeing the nearby rocks warily. She exchanges a look with Sialeeds, who rolls her eyes but nods.

Sialeeds clears her throat. “Oh, you give them entirely too much credit. Bandits are oafish cowards. Probably off hiding in a cave somewhere drinking grog and comparing suspicious growths.”

Frey drew a deep breath, felt the Dawn Rune react, readying itself. He was starting to run low on power, but there should still be plenty to deal with…

The bandits rushed out from behind the rocks ahead. At their head this time was a young woman and a large young man with a bird on his head.

“You’ll regret making fun of—” the woman yells, then stops when she sees the triumphant smile on Sialeeds’ face and the grim determination of Zerase, Lyon, and Frey.

“Oh hell,” she says as Frey and Zerase unleash another wave of power from their runes. The bandits waver, fall, knocked out by the potent one-two of the Dawn and Star Runes.

“Looks like I’ve still got some acting talent,” Sialeeds says.

“I’d never bet against you in that, Auntie,” Frey shouts, and for once it seems the tension drains away from them. Even this long after Lelcar, it’s been difficult to really talk with her. But they share a smile, and all of them step over the disabled bandits and proceed further onto the mountain.

Lyon groans when they see what’s ahead, though.

“It really is a cave?”

Frey chuckles. “You were expecting maybe a resort? A spa? Bath house?”

“There could be warrens of caves,” she says. “Traps everywhere, desperate bandits who have devised every way to defend their hideout.”

“You make it sound so fun,” Frey mutters.

“This is serious,” Lyon says. “What if there’s a hundred more of them in th—”

She’s cut off by a strangled shout from the mouth of the cave. DoppelFrey stands with an outraged look on his face.

“What the fuck’s the big idea? What have you done to my followers?”

Frey looks back at the bandits behind them, takes the time to count them. Ten.

“That’s…all your followers?” he asks.

DoppelFrey huffs. “It’s not like we’re an actual army. Fuck, did you kill them?”

Frey shakes his head. “They’re just sleeping. Should be better in a bit. Though by then they’ll probably be sitting in a Lelcar prison. With you.”

DoppelFrey sneers. “You think?”

He whips out a tri-nunchaku from behind him. Almost a perfect match of Frey’s own. Lyon steps forward, blade ready.

“Wait,” Frey calls, and Lyon stops, looks back. From her expression he can tell she already knows what he’s about to do and thinks it’s a terrible idea.

“If I beat you in a duel, will you surrender?” Frey asks.

DoppelFrey laughs. “You? Duel me? Sunshine, if you beat me, you can do whatever you want to me.”

Frey grins. “Well I mean if you want me to fuck you all you have to do is ask.”

DoppelFrey snarls, spins his tri-nunchaku. “Less flirting, more fighting.”

Frey slides free his own weapon. The moment he does, DoppelFrey attacks, pressing him back. Frey sees Lyon tense, but she doesn’t interfere. Frey’s not sure he’s grateful as he dances back. DoppelFrey doesn’t hold back, and there’s a shadow in his eyes that could only be hate.

“I thought with all your training you’d be better than this,” DoppelFrey taunts, pushing harder. It’s all Frey can do to block, to make sure he’s not pushed into a rock or over a cliff.

“Yeah, well, one of us has already fought his way up a mountain today,” Frey mutters. But he doesn’t give up. He thinks of Shoon, the beating he took at the Sacred Games. Back when it all seemed like a game he could lose and still win, because that’s how it always worked.

“I always knew you were soft,” DoppelFrey says, pressing the attack again. Frey circles, doesn’t cede ground this time. They close, tri-nunchaku cracking against each other. Frey gets a better look at the doppelganger’s face, the smug smile, the rage underneath. And something else. The Dawn Rune tingles, and Frey pushes back, goes on the offensive, careful not to open himself up to a counter.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Frey says.

DoppelFrey laughs and they clash again, arresting Frey’s advance. DoppelFrey draws close, face suddenly inches from Frey’s.

“I know enough,” DoppelFrey spits. “Brought up in a rich household. Pampered. Given anything you wanted. Given the best education, the best training. All of it squandered on a spoiled brat like you. More interested in fucking around than appreciating the advantages you’ve been given. Fucking useless.”

Frey winces as the words hit home harder than any weapon could manage. He grunts and lashes out, sloppier this time. DoppelFrey ducks under his attack, hooks his leg with a sweep. Frey falls, immediately rolls to avoid the brutal down-thrust of DoppelFrey’s weapon. He’s back on his feet a moment later, the two circling each other slowly.

The Dawn Rune is alive, and Frey’s whole body pulses with it. He wants to settle this another way, but knows there’s no getting around this fight.

“Then let’s see,” Frey says. “What about you? Hmm. Well, growing up poor is kind of a given. On the street. Probably took to thieving pretty young. Fell in with some plucky orphans, felt like you’d finally found a family.”

DoppelFrey growls.

“But still on the street, right? Still having to see your new family hungry, tired, never safe. Bet that kind of fucked you up.”

The Rune sings to him, whispers. DoppelFrey attacks again, but this time he’s the one off balance, reckless.

“All your life, you’ve thought about how great it would be to be the Prince. To have everything you wanted. To be protected. All your life spent hating me, because a part of you is jealous, and blames me for it.”

Frey quiets as the battle grows more intense. DoppelFrey is fast, strong, every bit the fighter Frey is—probably better, really, but he’s lashing out now, fighting the words just as hard as Frey’s weapon. There are openings, but Frey doesn’t take them. Not yet.

“So when you got a chance to hurt me, when you were approached by someone with a plan…you took it. Took it and became a bandit, a thug, because somewhere in your head it’s not really you robbing the people that come through. Beating them up. Maybe even killing them. It’s me. My fault for having the things you didn’t.”

“Shut up!” DoppelFrey screams.

Frey stops abruptly, grounds his tri-nunchaku, stands completely vulnerable.

“I’ve been a shit most of my life,” Frey says. “That much is true. I deserve a lot of what you think about me. But it’s not my fault you’re hurting people. Not my fault you’re helping a different set of rich asshole nobles exploit and kill people.”

The blow knocks Frey off his feet. His vision flares white, resolves in starbursts as he hits the ground hard. Everything seems to reduce, to concentrate, to narrow to the pain in the side of his head. He tries not to move, but the world seems to sway around him, and he’s not sure if he’s moving or not. Slowly the light swims back to a picture, and the rest of the world comes back. DoppelFrey is yelling.

“—the fuck do you think you are? I’m not the one who started this war. What does it matter to me which of you fucking nobles rules? You think it makes a difference to people living in the gutter? You think I’m to blame because finally one of you shits thought you could use me? I’m to blame because I took the money they offered? Because I—”

“Enough,” Frey says, and power surges from the Dawn Rune, fills the air with a solid mass of swirling energy. DoppelFrey has time only for his eyes to widen before he’s struck, lifted from his feet, slammed into the ground. The energy holds him there, Frey flexing the power the rune feeds him. He can almost feel DoppelFrey’s past, but he doesn’t look. Doesn’t want to share that yet.

Frey stands, still holding DoppelFrey to the ground.

“What the fuck? That’s cheating! You can’t fucking do this!” DoppelFrey struggles but it’s nothing to the Dawn Rune.

“It’s over,” Frey says. And it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the relationship between Frey and Roy. Roy's anger is so understandable, and Frey doesn't have a lot to fight back with. Except that he's trying now. And just having them together is great. I love it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DoppelFrey has been captured. But what to do with him? Frey has some ideas, and an interrogation quickly leads to...other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm unsure if I should tag this one underage because of the flashbacks. I'm leaning no because I assume both are technically age of consent when the scenes are happening, but then I'm not really sure if the tag is for "any under 18" or "any under age of consent where the author is" or whatever. They're both probably 16-17 when the flashbacks are taking place. Not super long before the events of the fic series itself.

Sable doesn’t have very impressive dungeons, so Frey arranges to have Roy moved to the Solis storeroom. The rest of the bandits await whatever kind of trial Solis has planned, but Frey wants some more time to speak to his doppelganger.

DoppelFrey is bound, chained arms to wall. His wig is on a chair nearby, and his brown hair almost looks strange on him.

“Can’t tell if I prefer you looking exactly like me,” Frey says. “This way the small differences are just creepy.”

DoppelFrey spits.

“First thing’s first, though,” Frey says. “Without the wig you’re not really DoppelFrey anymore.”

“Is that what you were calling me?”

Frey shrugs. “I mean, it kinda fits, right?”

“I was The Bandit Prince. I said it every time I robbed someone.”

“That’s way too much to call someone.”

“It’s one more syllable than your fucking DoppelFrey. The fuck would I want to be called Frey, anyway?”

“Okay, well I’m not calling you The Bandit Prince, so if you don’t want to remain DoppelFrey, how about giving me an actual name?”

The young man glares, but eventually sighs. “Roy,” he says. “My name’s Roy.”

On Frey’s hand, the Dawn Rune tingles.

“Okay, Roy. I’m Frey. Pretty sure you knew that already, but just to make introductions official.”

“What are you going to do with us?”

There’s something new in Roy’s expression, as if with the admission of his name he’s lost an armor that was protecting him from it. Fear.

“I’m not sure yet. You’re kinda in a bit of trouble.”

Roy huffs, looks away. “We were just doing what we were told.”

Frey crosses his arms. “Yeah, well, working with the Godwins isn’t exactly benign, so…”

Roy glares. “It wasn’t the Godwins. Whiny little shit of a noble put us up to it. Said we were doing a favor for Falena.”

Frey stifles a groan. Not the Godwins at all, then. The Barrows. Euram. That kid needs a good thrashing.

“Okay, still. People died.”

“We defended ourselves when attacked. The only people who died were some chumps Solis hired to root us out.”

Frey considers. Solis never really said the circumstances of the deaths. That doesn’t really make them right, though.

“That doesn’t change much. What might is what you’re willing to do to make things right.”

Roy sneers. “Well if it will get the rest of my gang out, I’ll suck your cock. You seemed eager before.”

Desire pulses through Frey and the Dawn Rune before he can tamp it down.

“Not what I had in mind,” he says. “Though, I mean, it’s not like I don’t…” Frey stops himself, refocuses. “Seeing as how you were put up to this, what we want is your help exposing the person who paid you. You help us do that, and we’ll consider it as penance for your crimes.”

Roy gives him a skeptical look. “That’s all.”

Frey smiles. “Well, I mean, it might also help if you agreed to join our movement. You’re strong, and having a person around who looks like me might be hot—er, useful. For strategy reasons and all that.”

“Join the fucking Prince and his merry band of assholes? Not exactly a great prospect.”

Frey walks closer, puts a hand to Roy’s chest, inches it down to his stomach, fingers tracing the lines of his armor.

“I could sweeten the pot, if you’d like.”

“You really are a slut, aren’t you?”

Frey laughs. “Oh, most definitely. But I won’t force anything. I…” He looks away, but keeps his hand on Roy’s stomach. “I haven’t always been a great person. I’m not sure I am even now. But I’m _trying_ now. And…having people around like you make it easier. To know when I’m being a complete shit.”

Roy narrows his eyes, but Frey can feel something in him soften.

“I’m never going to like you,” Roy says.

Frey leans in, their faces inches apart. “I’m not asking you to like me,” he says. “Just…join me.”

It’s not words that seal it. It’s the way Roy gives the barest of nods, his eyes closing, his mouth tilting up.

They kiss, Frey pressing against Roy, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces as Frey backs him hard against the wall of the cell. The tingling in his arm increases.

The convenient thing about Roy wearing his clothes is that Frey knows exactly how to take them off, even when chained to a wall. His hands loosen belts, untie fastenings, and in a moment Roy is naked from the waist down and Frey is stroking him, feeling the rapidly hardening flesh in his hand. A moment later and Frey is on his knees, taking Roy’s cock into his mouth, relishing the ways the bandit prince can’t fight, can’t back away.

Roy hisses as Frey works his tongue around the head of Roy’s cock, teasing him before pressing hard, taking him deep. Frey refuses to gag, managing to tickle his nose with Roy’s pubic hair before pulling away and entering into a rhythm. Roy groans, sounds like he wants to say something, but Frey given him no time. With his hands free, though, he works a magic that has nothing to do with his rune, worming his way free of his own leggings, pants, skirt, and belts. He retrieves one of the small vials of lube he keeps in a special holder in his belt and slicks his fingers, uses them to get himself ready.

He can taste Roy’s excitement, knows that he’s not going to last that much longer. So he pulls away, stands, plants a new kiss on Roy’s mouth, seeking his tongue, wanting to make this DoppelFrey experience the taste of his own cock.

And then he pulls back, seeing the haze of pleasure and desire alongside a defiant half-glare in Roy’s eyes, and turns around. Taking Roy’s cock in one hand, Frey pushes himself back against it, moans as Roy enters him. The chains that bind Roy to the wall shake as Frey pushes back against him, in complete control. With his still-slick hand he strokes himself, reveling in the power, the feeling, the small pleading noises that Roy can’t hold back.

The tingling in his hand spreads, through his body and then through their connection into Roy. He can feel it more acutely, the power of the rune, the way it wraps around them, stoking them. Burning brighter and brighter until…

They come together, Roy crying out and Frey riding him, groaning hard as he gets himself off, spurting out onto the bare stone of the cell. He grinds against Roy, Knees threatening to buckle, and the light engulfs them both.

_“I hate you!” Lym screams._

_Frey laughs, ducks around a corner, quickly slips through one of the many secret passageways of the palace. Passageways he knows Lym doesn’t know yet. That he’s not supposed to know about, either._

_He lets himself wander. He shouldn’t goad Lym as he does. Not her fault she gets to rule and he gets…well, most everything he wants. Not that he’d even want to rule. But… He sighs, keeps walking. Lately, he cherishes these moments away from Lym, away even from Lyon. He can’t talk to her about what he feels, the strange pressure in his chest that only seems to go away when he’s…_

_Things are moving too fast. He knows that. He thinks about making out with the guard in the stables. Thinks about those rough hands pushing at his shoulders. The thrill, the pleasure, the joy…the shame. The way he had said “I guess you_ are _good for something” afterward._

_Is he bad for wanting it again? He’s too young, everyone keeps telling him. But…_

_A noise ahead. He squints, thinks about where he is. Near the throne room. He steals closer. The noises are muffled, but Frey knows what they are. His heart quickens. He makes it to the secret door, cracks it, peers in._

_Ferid on his knees, mouth between Arshtat’s thighs. Frey sucks in a breath but doesn’t gasp. He shouldn’t be seeing this. But then, his parents shouldn’t be_ doing this _. Not where anyone could… Frey frees his hardening cock from his robes. He needs…_

And more light.

_Roy can be anyone people want him to be. It bothers him that most of the time they want him to dress as a woman. A girl, really. He doesn’t like the men who come asking for that. But he needs the money. Faylen and Faylon are out, picking pockets, stealing bread. Not safe, no, but not this, either._

_The man bends Roy over. It’s a good thing he takes care of lubing himself before it starts because they never think of it, never bother. The money is already hidden away, and Roy considers every time just running with it. He’ll never let them pay afterward. And if they get too rough he teaches them that he’s no soft fool. He considers just running, but…_

_Is he bad for wanting it? It not right, not clean, not safe. He’s too young, many would say. A victim. Sure, yes, but…_

_He is sure to cry out when he’s entered. For the man’s sake, because it’s what he wants. A little bit for his own. He likes the dressing up. The play of it. Likes the sex, too, but most of the time he also likes the performance. He’s good at it. He knows from more than just the money people are willing to pay. He knows it from the pleasured expressions afterward, the daze he seems able to induce. When he acts, they believe, and that’s a power he finds he wants more of._

_The man flips him over, back on the filthy alleyway, legs up in the air. The pace is fast but the man isn’t trying to hurt him. This one didn’t want a girl. No, this one saw something in Roy’s face. Something familiar? Roy doesn’t ask._

_The man is almost pretty. Sharp features, straight black hair, a mysterious eyepatch. Roy gives him what he wants, moans with each thrust, begging for more, more—_

_The man takes hold of his cock and strokes it. He’s not bad. And Roy doesn’t take long before he comes, before he feels the man fill him up. And a part of him hates that the man is seeing someone else as he looks down, spent, pupils huge. But another part of his relishes it._

The light fades, and Frey presses himself back against Roy, his arm up and back, hand hooked behind Roy’s neck.

He doesn’t move for a long time. They both just breathe, their bodies in sync, any words they might say lost to the dimming light and their mingling memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some Frey/Roy. Also yes that is exactly who you think it is in Roy's flashback. Yes, that is something I want to explore later in the series (Georg will definitely be making a return at some point, though he's been long absent for plot reasons). I'll probably have one more chapter here, probably not too steamy bc it'll be dealing with the attack on Beaver Lodge. Next stop will probably be the Island Nations, and I'm not sure who all will be involved in that episode. Cheers!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frey's time in Sable comes to an end with a few new allies. But before he can celebrate, an atrocity brings the mood decidedly down, and he confronts his aunt about her past comments.

Frey can’t sleep. Something tugs at him, his restless feet wandering from his sleeping quarters. He contemplates waking someone. Roy has joined, along with Faylen and Faylon, and while none of them seem entirely thrilled about it, Frey’s glad for it.

For once, though, he doesn’t seek anyone out. He walks out onto the upper balcony. And stops. The night is brighter than it should be, as if a new sun were rising. But in the wrong direction and at the wrong time of day. Almost as soon as he notices it, a cry goes up from below, from the docks. Lyon is running toward the main area (and how the hell did she even get down there so fast?).

“Prince!” she shouts when she sees him standing looking out into the distance. “It’s Beaver Lodge. It’s on fire!”

He’s running before she’s finished.

They can’t arrive in force, but Frey brings along Richard and Roy, Belcoot and Zerase. They wade through the assassins they find, but they also wade through small furry bodies. Not as many as they expected, but not none.

They confront that creepy fucker, Dolph, and drive him off, manage to save the life of grandpa beaver, Fuwalafuwala. But none of it sits right. None of it.

As Lucretia and the others arrive to clean up the mess and consolidate the beavers, Frey detaches, pulls himself away. Roy follows.

“What the fuck was this?” he asks.

Frey shakes his head. He doesn’t want to think about what this is. What this means. But he can feel it. The Dawn Rune pulses and it’s like he can feel the wrong of what just happened, the mind behind it. He sees Sialeeds arrive with Kyle and a few of the others, and there’s something hot and tight in his chest that makes him stride toward her, Roy pulled in his wake.

“Still think we should do nothing?” he shouts at her.

She jerks at his voice, and people clear away, making a wide circle around her. Except Kyle, who seems almost confused, hovering near as if he expects to have to step between them.

“Still think that starting this war was a mistake?”

Her eyes narrow. “If the beavers hadn’t helped us, they wouldn’t have been made a target.”

“That justifies genocide?” The word splits the night, underscoring the destruction around them. “This was not a military engagement. It wasn’t even an attempt to control the town. The orders were murder. You don’t keep assassins because you want peace. You keep assassins because you want to kill people.”

“Even Arshtat—”

“I don’t care if my mother was just as much a monster,” Frey says. “I don’t care if the throne of Falena is so caked in blood that it will never wash clean. I care that _this is wrong!_ Can’t you see that?”

“Well of course it’s wrong. But it’s war. What did you expect?”

Frey looks at her, mouth open.

“That’s seriously fucked up, lady,” Roy says, and Frey is grateful of his presence.

“We’ve killed people in this war, too. Falenas who think they’re doing the right thing.”

“But they’re not! And the beavers are just as much Falenas as we are. How can you say that there’s no difference between what we’re doing and what they’re doing?”

She sneers at him. “There was a time I thought I was doing the right thing, too. When I sacrificed for what I thought was best. It all fell apart anyway.”

“Not because you were wrong, though.” Frey looks down at his hands. The glow of the Dawn Rune. He wants her to understand, but probably offering to fuck his aunt is not the greatest move right now. “It fell apart because _they_ made it fall apart. The Godwins. They broke the nation, everything. It’s them who should have to suffer the consequences, them who should face justice.”

“They’ll get out it,” she says. “They always do.”

“So we shouldn’t try? So we should do nothing? Even in the face of this?” He motions towards the burning town, towards where the dead are being piled.

She looks away first, turning back toward the boats. “No. Not nothing.”

But she doesn’t elaborate, and Frey watches walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short scene to close things out and comment on what Sialeeds said back in Lelcar. I do feel like at this point you don't get to say any longer that there isn't a right side in the conflict. Next section will be...Nirva Island! Bernadette! Plus Isabel and Mathias! Will George show back up. Oh boy oh boy oh boy!


End file.
